


no one takes your freedom

by Knightblazer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-21
Updated: 2011-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-23 22:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knightblazer/pseuds/Knightblazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is the angel who pulled Dean Winchester out of perdition, and Jimmy Novak is the man who is his vessel - and so this is his story, the story of the man with the angel as he watches the angel of Thursday discover humanity and the Winchesters and all the things that come with it (and them).</p>
            </blockquote>





	no one takes your freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Haha to be honest I wasn't so sure what I was going on when this idea popped into my head, but after three days of work I guess this isn't too bad at all. This fic takes place over the duration of Season 4 in its entirety, so be careful of spoilers everywhere.

It had hurt at first, being possessed by an angel. It wasn’t as pleasant as one might have expected it to be—how could it be, when you could feel both fire and ice threading through your veins simultaneously? That was what it felt like to Jimmy Novak, as Grace poured through his blood like lava and liquid nitrogen at the same time, his entire body combusting and freezing as the angel Castiel entered his body and claimed it as its own vessel to walk the earth. Jimmy would have screamed if he had been able to, but the angel had already slipped inside, blocking out the pain effortlessly and the resulting relief had made the pain a distant memory already. The process had only been but a moment, he knew, but yet it had felt like forever, with light blinding his eyes while the whispers sharpened themselves into the screeching cry he first heard when Castiel talked to him through his television those few months earlier.

Only now that he could begin to make out the cries, the whispers of the other angels as Castiel settled into his body. He heard their stirrings, the restlessness of the younger angels amongst the Host who belonged to Castiel’s garrison up in Heaven. He heard the faint hushes of the older angels who only watched and observed as Castiel raised his hand and flexed it experimentally, feeling every movement of muscle and tendon, seeing the bones moving under skin and flesh. Seemingly satisfied, he lowered back the hand as Jimmy felt a sense of acknowledgement sent towards the connection that linked the angel to the rest of the host—a confirmation that he had obtained his vessel, and was ready to proceed with his mission.

 _What mission?_ He wondered, but received no response in return, not from the one who controlled his body now. Castiel was still silent, and continued to remain so as the front door behind them clicked open and Jimmy heard the worried tone in his daughter’s voice. “Daddy?”

They—Castiel—turned around, head inclined as the angel studied his daughter with a frown on his face. Jimmy could feel the small surge of confusion that came from Castiel, and he tried to help as he explained. _She’s my daughter, Castiel._

There was still no response from Castiel, however, although Jimmy felt his head raising up a little higher before his body turned back to face the road ahead of them. Jimmy wanted to say something again— _tell her that she’ll be okay, tell her that I’ll be back_ —but then the angel opened his mouth to speak and he found himself literally stopped at the words that came out from his mouth. “I am not your father.”

The abrupt difference in his voice barely registered to Jimmy at all, not so much as the words the angel had said. He was still recovering from his shock as Castiel started to move, walking down the path out of his house and away from the sight of his daughter. As soon as he realized that Jimmy recovered and started to pound himself against the unearthly power that was Castiel, shouting and raging at it with words he wouldn’t have ever expect himself to use. Castiel—that was not what the angel should have said! With words like that, he wouldn’t ever be able to face his family again, not like this—

 _Castiel!_ he demanded, continuing to pound in his mind without pause. _What’s the meaning of this?!_

But still Castiel said nothing, and Jimmy could only find himself helpless to the angel’s work as the sound of wings beat the air once with a thunderous echo that rang in his ears and the both of them vanish from the human eye.

  


All it took was a blink, and then suddenly Jimmy found himself before a shabby, rundown shed which looked pretty much like something anybody would just past by and never give it a second glance, Jimmy himself included.

Jimmy, of course, was as confused as hell and wanted more answers in addition to the others that he wanted. Why did Castiel bring him here? What was this mission the other angels were going on about? Just what was going on? Even though it had only been a few minutes Jimmy had the distinct feeling that he was chewing more than he could have—then again, when an _angel_ was processing your body that should be something of a sign that something was off. Jimmy was more than pleased to be chosen for something like this—this holy mission, this sacred pilgrimage that only few would ever be able to do, but now a part of him wasn’t sure just what he had gotten himself into.

There was no time for him to ask however, as Castiel started to move before Jimmy could speak, a single thread of Grace sparking the air and sending the winds howling into frenzy. Loose boards from the roof banged and flapped against the frame, and as they neared the door the angel raised his hand to make it open, the wooden doors slowly swinging open as they stepped in. Sparks skittered down from above, raining across his skin and clothes and hair—Jimmy knew that they should hurt, but somehow he couldn’t feel anything at all. Castiel, of course, only remained unflinching and continued to walk forward.

Even with the dim lighting now Jimmy could still make out the two figures who were before them—two men, one of them notably older than the other. Jimmy wasn’t quite sure at all what to make of anything or said two men when they started to fire their guns at him. The pain never even registered, and judging from Castiel’s lack of flinching Jimmy was pretty certain that it had just taken the bullets like they were nothing and healed his body back up without so much as a thought.

 _So what, I’m just a meatsuit?_ Jimmy asked aloud, not really expecting a response now; and neither did he get one as the angel turned his head to look at the younger man and—and Jimmy paused as he felt a strange stirring from Castiel when the angel laid eyes properly on him, and suddenly Jimmy knew the younger man’s name, as if he had known him since forever.

Dean Winchester.

“Who are you?” Dean asked, voice all tense and on edge as he looked at Castiel with wary eyes.

To Jimmy’s surprise, Castiel did respond. “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

_Perdition?_

“Yeah,” Dean returned, sounding utterly disbelieving, “Thanks for that.” That was something which both Jimmy and Castiel picked up, and something that seemed to make the angel confused all over again. That confusion was probably the only reason why Castiel didn’t even move an inch when the knife came running into his heart, plunging through skin and muscle and Jimmy couldn’t help but wince, because he technically just died twice in a matter of minutes. _Take better care of my body, would you?_

_I apologize._

Jimmy paused, startled that Castiel was actually replying to him. The angel glanced down at the knife lodged in his chest, reaching up and pulling it out with another thought. Jimmy felt the wound healing up instantly as Castiel dropped the knife to the ground, and then they were looking back up into Dean’s now wide-eyed expression of shock.

 _What just happened?_ Jimmy asked before he could stop himself.

The annoyance was evident in Castiel’s response, although Jimmy found himself more concerned about the words rather than the delivery. _He believed that I was a demon._

Demons existed in the world, too? Jimmy paused, taken aback by yet even more startling info and found his entire world flipped upside down once more, barely noticing Castiel moving in the next few moments as the elder man tried to attack them and was quickly put out with a brush of fingers and the whisper of Grace. Angels and demons and heaven and hell—he had believed, but to think that they were _real_ —

 _Of course they are real,_ the angel replied with a bit more annoyance before there was a frown and Castiel spoke aloud. “We need to talk, Dean.” A pause as the angel looked down back at the other unconscious man before adding on. “Alone.”

  


They were far away now from that barn, out elsewhere Jimmy couldn’t recognize at all and he was pretty certain that he was at another continent entirely, what with the angel’s ability to take them anywhere with just a thought. Castiel was silent again even as he gazed at the distance before them, hearing nothing but the night itself. Considering everything that had happened, Jimmy figured that now would be a bad time to ask questions.

(“Who are you?” Dean had asked.

“Castiel.”

“I mean _what_ are you?”

Castiel raised his head to stare at Dean straight in the eye and replied in the most confident voice Jimmy had heard from the angel so far. “I’m an angel of the Lord.”)

_He doesn’t believe,_ Jimmy faintly heard from Castiel, the angel feeling incredibly frustrated. Jimmy supposed he could relate in a way, but he was a bit more towards Dean’s side. Still, he did emphasize with the angel a little. He had only seen bits and pieces of the things that Castiel had flashing across, memories of Hell that burned with fire and brimstones and echoes of damned souls pleading for salvation and mercy. Mercy they would never and could never get there, no matter what. Even if they were mere flashes, they were terrifying enough for Jimmy. He could only wonder how was it that Dean was still okay the way he was, if he had been there until Castiel pulled him out.

(Dean sucked in a breath, pushing himself back up on the ground to stand on his feet at he looked back at Castiel, the expression on his face set into an unreadable expression. 

“Get the hell out of here,” he breathed out, voice grating out through clenched teeth. “There’s no such thing.”

Castiel rounded on Dean, and Jimmy felt another tinge of annoyance from the angel even as he replied evenly. “This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith.”

After he said that Jimmy felt Grace slipping out again, and the next thing he knew lightning was flashing and in the reflection of Dean’s eyes he saw the shadows of Castiel’s wings against the wall of the shed, the black shapes a stark contrast to the intense light.)

Jimmy made a mental shrug. _Lots of people don’t believe,_ he went in an attempt to be comforting. _Just give him time._

Castiel sighed in response. _Time is what the world lacks now._

(“Some angel you are,” Dean went a while later, once the quiet shock had ridden over him. “You burned out that poor woman’s eyes.”

The angel let out a breath, making a small shrug as he took a few steps closer to Dean. “I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be… overwhelming to humans. And so can my real voice—but you already knew that.”

Jimmy found himself confused at that. _What about me?_

“You mean the gas station and the motel?” the wariness had crept back into Dean’s voice again. “That was you talking?”

Castiel nodded.

Dean made a vaguely unimpressed face. “Buddy, next time, lower the volume.”

“That was my mistake,” Castiel admitted, sighing quietly. “Certain people—special people—can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them.” A pause, and then the angel added on. “I was wrong.”

Well. At least that answered his question.

Dean scoffed, face twisting as he just about sneered at Castiel. “And what ‘visage’ are you in now, huh? What… holy tax accountant?”

_I am not an accountant—_ Jimmy started, but then stopped when he remembered that Dean wouldn’t hear him anyway.

Castiel on the other hand looked down at his body for a moment before glancing back up. “This? This is… a vessel.”

If anything, that answer only made Dean more suspicious if his answer was anything to go by. “You’re possessing some poor bastard?”

“He’s a devout man.” Castiel replied, voice even again. “He… actually prayed for this.”

_Not exactly._

“Look, pal,” Dean instantly replied, voice almost a snap. “I’m not buying what you’re selling so who are you, really?”

Jimmy felt the confusion in the angel again, feeling a frown crossing his face as Castiel tilted his head and stared at Dean. Suddenly Jimmy found himself hearing whispers and echoes of cries and screams, sobs and pleas for mercy amongst the scattered sounds of explosions and gunshots and then all Jimmy could feel was pain and a crushing darkness so deep he wasn’t sure if he’d ever hit the bottom.)

_What do you mean?_ Jimmy asked the angel, even though he knew it was most likely a bad idea to do so.

(“I told you,” he faintly registered Castiel saying that even as the sensations continued to wash across him like a tsunami and Jimmy couldn’t help but be caught by it.

“Right.” Dean paused to shift a bit, voice dipping right into the realm of cynical. “And why would an angel rescue me from hell?”

“Good things do happen, Dean.”

“Not in my experience.”

“What’s the matter?” And then suddenly, the sensations that Jimmy felt intensified even more, crushing him up without warning and squeezing him so tight Jimmy almost believed he was being strangled even though he was now only a resident of his mind. The darkness… it just felt so painful. 

_Castiel—_

And just like that, the feeling abruptly vanished, leaving Jimmy gasping in his own mind as he heard Castiel speaking again. “You don’t think you deserved to be saved.”

Jimmy never considered himself to be an expert in understanding other people, but the expression that flickered across Dean’s eyes there and then was all the confirmation that Jimmy needed to know that what Castiel said was true.

He had never seen anybody with eyes that broken before.)

_Dean is the righteous man,_ Castiel replied with a resounding finality, as if that was the only answer that he needed.

(“Why d’you do it?” Dean finally asked after the moment passed, voice tight and controlled.)

_The righteous man?_

(“Because God commanded it,” Castiel returned, voice resounding with Grace now as he started back at Dean intently, frowning even more. “Because we have work for you.”)

Castiel nodded. _And the righteous man who begins it is the only one who can end it._

 _And that means…?_ Jimmy let the question hang, mostly because he wasn’t sure what he should do with the answer he would get.

 _I have faith._ was all that Castiel said as the angel closed his eyes and bowed his head in prayer. _And I will make up for the faith he lacks._

  


He had felt it when the seal broke, had felt it as keenly as Castiel did and had felt the sudden rush of voices in his head that was the rest of the Host talking. The earth had cried and moaned while at the same time Jimmy heard the triumphant roar of Hell as the demons took one step closer into starting the end of the world.

The Apocalypse. He had always been a believer, of course, but to have everything bringing home to him, to have everything suddenly exist before his eyes… it had been a lot to take in. Castiel hadn’t really helped on that account, what with his bluntness and lack of a proper mind-to-mouth filter. Not that it actually mattered, since Jimmy was tuned into almost everything that the angel thought and felt—one of the things that came with sharing a body with an angel, he supposed.

Still, he couldn’t help but be surprised at the surge of anger that came from Castiel when was speaking with Dean later in his dream, after the spell had been reversed and the witnesses laid to rest once again.

 _It doesn’t matter,_ Castiel had said. _The seal was broken._

 _Why break the seals anyway?_ Dean asked, and the angel explained. Explained about Lucifer and the cage, explained how Lilith was breaking the seals to free the devil and kick-start the Apocalypse.

Jimmy could hear the disbelief in Dean’s voice, pick out the confusion and uncertainty and underneath all of that, denial. Denial that the devil existed, denial that there was such a thing as the Apocalypse and denial that now, the entire world was in danger and not just people unfortunate enough to meet things that bumped in the dark.

 _Three days ago, you thought there was no such thing as me,_ Castiel could only return Dean’s disbelief with the angel’s own brand of dryness, the calm in its voice hiding the building frustration that Jimmy was feeling. _Why do you think we’re here walking among you now for the first time in two thousand years?_

Dean replied, and then they talked and Castiel tried to stay calm, tried to explain to Dean as much as was possible but Dean only scoffed and rolled his eyes and Jimmy felt the surge of anger that ran through the angel, the angel who was frustrated and confused and irritated at the lack of concern that Dean was showing. Dean who was supposed to be The Righteous Man, the human who Castiel tore through hell to _drag him back out and who he could throw back in._

Jimmy opted to remain silent as Castiel withdrew from Dean’s dream and returned back to the world in order to resume his work (whatever it was). The frustration was still there, but Castiel was doing a good job of keeping it silent. The angel was a soldier of God, one of many who shouldn’t doubt and feel and only serve the greater good. They were a far cry from the angels the rest of the world thought they’d be. Jimmy understood all of that, and more now. They weren’t pacifists; they were _soldiers_ , soldiers like the ones out in the Middle East and Africa and Congo.

_There’s a bigger picture here._

Dean was absolutely right, Jimmy reflected quietly—these guys _were_ dicks.

  


The door that slammed shut behind Dean sounded rather absolute, but Castiel paid no heed to the sound and the action and merely turned his head back, falling silent as Jimmy tried to recollect himself after everything that had happened.

 _What was that all about?_ he eventually managed to ask, even as he was still trying to make sense of what had had just seen with the angel in the days past April 30, 1973.

 _It simply means what it means,_ was the only thing Castiel had said in response before he transported both of them out of the place, and then the angel said no more about the matter.

If anything, all this only made Jimmy even more confused than before.

Again: angels really were dicks.

  


The look on Uriel’s face said everything both Castiel and Jimmy needed to know as they returned, even if the other angel didn’t say anything. The seal had been broken, when it could have been prevented. Because Castiel listened to Dean, because Dean was given a chance when there were other opportunities to do so. And now Castiel gave Dean that chance when he shouldn’t, and yet another seal had been broken.

Another step closer to a literal Hell on Earth.

Uriel said nothing still, although Jimmy could very well hear the scoff of ‘mud monkeys’ as Castiel brushed past the other angel, already starting to head off to the next destination the voices of the Host had given. He had been silent ever since the angel had talked to Dean, although Jimmy really couldn’t blame him—he was silent too, caught by surprise at the words Castiel had said to Dean as he thought about it himself. Thinking about it, and recalling the conflict of emotions that Castiel had felt on the angel’s end when he spoke.

_I’m not… a hammer, as you say. I have questions, I… I have doubts. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore, and whether you passed or failed here._

It was the first time he had seen that crack in Castiel’s otherwise flawless conviction, that insistence that everything had to be done for the greater good. It surprised him, just as it had surprised Dean. In the time he had been with Castiel already the angel was nothing but convinced, so full of certainty and never, ever having a shred of doubt or regret within themselves.

Hearing Castiel just now, though, made Jimmy pause and revise his opinion. How much of Castiel’s conviction was actually real? How much had the angel done to convince that everything that was going on was for the greater good, the ‘greater picture’? Just how much was Castiel saying these things to convince himself?

Himself, because it was getting harder and harder to think of Castiel as an angel—for even with everything, these emotions that Jimmy kept feeling, these sensations; the frustration and anger and irritation… Jimmy couldn’t help but place them as incredibly human. Castiel was lost and confused and uncertain of anything right now after countless years of always being certain, and he… he was just a guy who had a family but lost it in a single second when he uttered that one word ( _yes_ ) and had his world flipped upside down in a matter of minutes.

Angels and demons, heaven and hell, the Apocalypse and Armageddon. Everything was so unreal, so out of this world—and it was funny, how all of this was now starting to become normality for him now. Jimmy already lost count of the times his body had been shot and stabbed and wounded and broken; for all he knew he could have already died a thousand times, but it was Castiel’s Grace that kept his body moving, kept his heart pumping and his now angelic blood flowing through his veins. In a way perhaps he should be glad, but being in his own corner like this, seeing everything happening and not being able to do anything else about it? It was—it was just tiring. It hadn’t even been long, but it was so tiring.

Jimmy tried not to think about it though, for he had agreed, and he had said yes. It was nobody’s fault but his own, and Jimmy knew that. So he kept silent, quiet in his place as Castiel went all over the world (China and Iceland and Brazil and so many other places he’d never be able to go as a human), fighting battles and preventing broken seals and watching more and more of his brothers and sisters die with each conflict and each seal.

 _Is it true?_ he finally gathered the courage to ask nearly a week later, after one particularly exhausting battle over in Australia with more demons (another seal, more fighting, but unlike the rest this one the angels had won—but not without sacrifices; he had felt Castiel’s pain when Ayil, Sariel and Jaoel fell to the earth, the last of their Grace burning out with their lives) and the angel was resting up.

There was a long moment of silence on Castiel’s part before he finally answered. _What is?_

 _What you—what you told to Dean,_ Jimmy hesitated for a second, hoping that Castiel wouldn’t smite him or anything for it. _Do you really…?_

A sigh. _I shouldn’t be,_ Castiel replied softly, almost regretfully. _But—yes. It is true._

The question came before Jimmy could help himself. _Why?_

The cynicism in Castiel’s voice was as clear as day when he answered. _If I knew the answer, I wouldn’t have doubts in the first place._

 _But what if the answers you get aren’t what you expect?_ he returned.

 _I’m a soldier,_ the angel replied almost instantly, voice rising for just a brief moment. _Sacrifices have to be made._

_Then—Dean?_

Castiel was silent again, and Jimmy was almost certain that the other wouldn’t respond until he did, voice quiet and almost a whisper that even Jimmy had to strain himself to hear. _I cannot disobey what the Lord commands._

Even as he said those words however, Jimmy could sense the angel’s feelings going otherwise. He doubted, and for some reason, Jimmy had just made him doubt even more.

  


_Anna._

The name echoed in his head as Castiel turned it in his head over and over again, bits and pieces of memory flashing past his mind’s eye. Anna, who was kind and graceful to everyone in the garrison but yet fierce and powerful on the battlefield. Anna, the strong-hearted angel who obeyed orders and had never faltered until the day she ripped out her Grace and Fell. Anna, the angel who Castiel had admired and adored listened to and _loved_ once upon a time before she Fell and before the threat of the Apocalypse loomed over their heads.

But that time was over, and those memories were nothing but recollections of a time now lost. But the hurt was still there, Jimmy knew—he could feel it as keenly as his own, the sharp pang of what was as close to regret as Castiel knew how to feel.

As strong as that emotion was—as powerful as it was, and it was powerful that Jimmy found himself stunned speechless by the force of that feeling—Castiel was still nothing but the picture of perfect calmness outside, silent and stoic as the Host whispered immediate orders to them, orders to terminate the human known as Anna Milton, otherwise once known as the angel Anael. She had disobeyed and Fell, and now she was found with the Winchesters—and now the Host wanted her dead.

Jimmy could feel how much Castiel didn’t want to do it, how the angel had prayed that it would be otherwise—but Uriel had taken the orders with sick joy and Castiel knew he had to do it, or things would not be in his favour. After Samhain, the Host had not been looking kindly on him at all. Jimmy sympathized with the angel, he really did, but he still couldn’t help but attempt to protest as they were making their way to where Anna and the Winchesters would be.

 _You don’t need to do this, Castiel,_ he tried to reason, even though he knew it really wasn’t going to work. Even then, he wasn’t going to just… let something like this happen without him attempting _something_.

 _The Host has ordered it,_ was the response Jimmy got, and he recognized the cold edge that had crept into Castiel’s voice. It came up more and more now these days, and Jimmy knew it for what it was; that was Castiel hardening himself, steeling himself to be the soldier that he should be, to be the warrior he had been until the moment the angel claimed his body and met Dean Winchester. This was Castiel trying to reason to himself but failing, and in the end simply killing off the part of him that doubted in order to do his duty. Jimmy had seen that happen to some of his friends before, cops and detectives and marines and many other lines of work.

It had never ended well for any of them.

 _Castiel, don’t!_ Jimmy attempted to stress, but they were already there and Castiel had shut Jimmy off, and there was nothing else he could do but watch as the angels demanded Anna from the Winchesters and their tag-along demon (Ruby, he recalled its name was). He wanted to pound against the wall that separated him from Castiel when Uriel tossed Ruby to the side and Castiel himself reached out to Sam with his fingers and put the younger Winchester to sleep, stepping over his unconscious form and reaching out for the door. Jimmy pounded against the wall even more.

_Cas—_

_—time stopped and suddenly seemed to _skip_ , and the next thing Jimmy knew he found himself sprawled many miles away; far, far away from where Anna and the Winchesters were. Without even thinking, Jimmy let out a sigh of relief in his head as Castiel struggled to get back on his feet after being thrown away by the banishing sigil._

He felt a mixture of emotions coming from the angel once they were upright again, and Jimmy took his chances. _Cas—Castiel?_

 _Stop talking._ The tone in the angel’s voice brooked no further argument.

Jimmy decided to do just that.

  


He continued to stay silent after that, only watching as Castiel grew even more troubled, watched as the angel gritted his teeth and attempted to reason with the Host (and Uriel) that throwing Dean Winchester back into Hell was not going to help anything with the situation (even though Castiel himself had made that threat once)—that not was not going to get Anael.

“Dean Winchester would rather let himself go back to Hell than give up Anna Milton,” he had attempted to explain. “It would be unwise to throw Dean back him, when we still need him.”

Uriel, of course, had only sneered when he heard that. “You’re sympathizing too much, Castiel,” he almost spat in disgust. “Dean Winchester is merely but a mud monkey. An ant, one of many.”

“He is the Righteous Man, and he can put an end to the Apocalypse,” Castiel shot back, and only Jimmy could hear the quiet desperation in his voice. “If we put him back in, then our efforts would have come to naught.”

“You put too much stock into him,” Uriel returned, clearly not impressed. “His time is up, and we will need an answer from him.”

“I will—” Castiel started, but Uriel put up a hand before he could finish.

“I will go,” the other angel looked up, the look on his face flashing a clear warning to Castiel. “Things will be easier for us all if I do.”

Jimmy heard the Host giving their agreement, and he felt Castiel sagging his shoulders as the angel nodded quietly. “If that is what the Host desires.”

Uriel smiled at the response, and then vanished with a beat of giant wings.

There were many things that Jimmy wanted to say to Castiel right there and then, but Castiel had told him to not talk and when he felt all of the emotions that the angel was feeling right now—there really was nothing that Jimmy could say either. It was hard for the both of them, and just as how Castiel didn’t envy Dean for the things he had to face, Jimmy himself wasn’t going to envy Castiel for everything that the angel was going through right now.

  


_Anael has allowed herself to be defiled by that mud monkey._

Both Jimmy and Castiel heard it, but somehow the angel refused to acknowledge it until they saw Dean for themselves and saw how Anna turned to him and they pressed their lips together like they meant it.

That was the first time Jimmy felt the angel feeling jealously and _want_ , and he wasn’t sure what to say about it.

Just like when Castiel first entered his body, Jimmy had a feeling this was way over his head.

  


Castiel stayed silent in the aftermath of everything, after Anna ( _Anael_ , Jimmy corrected himself) stole her Grace back from Uriel and had fled into hiding. Uriel was less then pleased with how things had turned out, and spent his time cursing those ‘despicable, filthy mud monkeys’ as Castiel sought revelation and heard the Host’s immense disapproval.

 _You failed again, Castiel_ , they had whispered, and Jimmy keenly felt the shame that the angel was feeling. _You allowed Anael to escape, and you did not take out Alistair._

 _I was weak,_ Castiel had replied, voice quiet. _I will not do so again._

 _Your sympathies are clouding your judgement, Castiel,_ the Host cautioned, _You cannot let that happen._

_I understand._

_Uriel will take over your duties, as punishment for this failure._

Castiel bowed his head. _If that is what the Host commands, I will accept it._

  


Jimmy didn’t expect to be seeing Dean Winchester again, not so soon—and most certainly not the very same night. But he was there; or rather, _Castiel_ was there. He was, as always, just an observer and a watcher, an audience of one within his own body.

He had to ask though, because he couldn’t help it (again). _What are we doing here, Castiel?_

Again, there was no answer, and Jimmy bit back a sigh in his mind as he looked at where the angel was looking—down at the bed where Dean Winchester was sleeping and dreaming a nightmare, from the difficult expression that crossed the man’s face.

 _What’s going on?”_ he asked.

__He’s remembering Hell,_ was all that Castiel said before he reached out with one hand and gently brushed fingers across Dean’s forehead. The moment he did that, the expression vanished entirely and Dean sank back into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. It didn’t take much after that for Jimmy to put two and two together._

“You’re still sympathizing, Castiel.”

And neither did Uriel, from the sound of it.

Castiel turned around to face the other angel, face an expression of blank neutrality. “It would not help us if Dean is not in the best state of mind to do his duty.”

Uriel’s face twisted into a sneer. “He deserves it.”

In another time Castiel would have said something in response to that—and Jimmy could feel something bubbling right under the surface—but Castiel held his tongue and only looked at the other angel, staying silent.

Seemingly satisfied with the silence, Uriel turned right back around and spoke through the Host. _There is more work to be done, Castiel. We must go._

 _I understand._ Castiel replied with a bow of his head, turning around as well in order to leave—but not before he turned back to cast one last look at Dean when he could help it, but after that they were gone in a flash of wings and unfurled Grace.

__

  


He’s not supposed to tell them. He shouldn’t. This seal was too complicated, and the warding was keeping them all away. The Host has already moved on and given up, fighting other more important battles, seals that had more chance of being saved.

He’s not supposed to tell them.

But Castiel does anyway, even against orders.

The Host was not pleased, but capturing Alastair and preventing a seal spared Castiel from any punishment.

 _This was a victory_ , Jimmy heard the angel say to Dean.

The response Dean gave to Castiel though made him feel otherwise.

  


_He cannot do this,_ Castiel tried to reason when the orders from the Host came.

Uriel only gave the angel a small, sad smile which both of them later realize would be fake. _He has to, Castiel. It’s God’s Will._

And who was Castiel to question His will, let alone Jimmy himself? He could feel Castiel’s own rage and frustration at the situation, at the death of his seven brothers and sisters in his garrison, at asking Dean to do what was impossible, at everything. Nothing was—nothing was making sense anymore, not even to Castiel, and Jimmy himself had no hope of understanding what was going on too. He was even more lost than Castiel could ever be, and more tired. How long had it already been since that day when he said yes? It had felt like a lifetime already, what with all these things happening so quickly.

He was tired, tired of only watching but doing nothing, of watching Castiel confused and hurt as the angel watched Dean, talked to Dean, pushing his emotions down and casting them aside as the angel himself prayed for forgiveness too when the human walked through the door and into where Alistair hung from his bonds.

Jimmy had no love for demons—they were demons, after all—but even he couldn’t help but flinch at the screams that started to come out from the room minutes after, every scream and cry making him huddle up tighter in the corner of his mind. He had only known of Hell through what he had read and through the flashes of Castiel’s memories from time to time; they had never been anything substantial, nothing he could properly make out but now hearing those cries, cries from a _demon_ … Jimmy didn’t know what he could think of all of this, especially considering what he knew of Dean now.

He had been Alistair’s prized student, back down in the pit. Castiel had told him that, told him how he had gripped the man tight and pulled his up out from perdition, how he had remade the body that Dean now resided it. He told Jimmy how he mapped out every neuron and remade every bone in Dean’s body; how he had attached muscles, ligaments and tendons together and breathed life back into his lungs—how he had held Dean Winchester’s heart in his hands and with his Grace made it beat once more. He told Jimmy how he brought back to life one of His Father’s greatest creations and placed the most beautiful soul he had ever seen back into that perfect body from his arms while sheltered by his wings.

He had told Jimmy how beautiful Dean Winchester really was, and how he never wanted to see that beauty tarnished.

 _Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Castiel,_ Jimmy said in an attempt to comfort his companion, but the angel only shook his head.

 _It hurts him, and his soul is stained,_ Castiel replied, and the hopelessness was audible in those words. _His soul is stained, and it’s all because of me._

 _You couldn’t stop it,_ Jimmy returned, gentler now. Castiel hadn’t wanted it—but the Host said that they needed this, and Uriel was the one in charge now. As much as the angel wanted, he couldn’t question orders; Jimmy understood that much.

 _I—_ the angel started, but then stopped when Anna ( _Anael_ ) appeared.

Jimmy remained quiet as the two angels talked, making no comment to the memories that flashed past Castiel—moments back in Heaven and in the garrison when things had been simpler, when life had been easier. When Anna was still truly Anael and Castiel could do nothing else but love her and respect her for the angel that she was.

He had loved her, once upon a time.

Loved her, just as now as Castiel now loved Dean Winchester and mourned for him and the losses he bore across his heart and soul.

 _Castiel…_ Jimmy softly started, a quiet caution just before Castiel pulled himself away and pushed Anna’s hand away from him.

“I am nothing like you,” he snarled—the first time he heard Castiel do that—as he walked away from the other and scowled. “You _Fell_.”

_You Fell because of a human and for humans and I’m afraid to do that._

Jimmy heard that, but made no comment and kept his silence as Castiel growled for Anna to leave and she did, restored wings beating the air as she vanished from sight. Jimmy could feel the angel sagging as soon as Anna was gone, sensing his own shame and disappointment at himself—at the hypocrisy of his words and how empty they were even to himself, much less Jimmy.

He wanted to say something to Castiel, he really did, but Castiel was an angel and he was just a human now stuck in the corner of his own head, and there wasn’t much time after that anyway because Alistair had somehow broke free of his trap andthings basically all went downhill. Dean almost died, Castiel was almost banished back into Heaven (and Jimmy panicked when that happened, because he could feel all the connections suddenly ending and coldness creeping up on him as death crept closer, because he was injured to the point of death and nothing had been healed back yet) and if it wasn’t for the intervention of Sam things would have ended badly.

Castiel was still weak even after that, so weak that he couldn’t even bring himself to heal Dean and had to leave him lying in a hospital bed, regret twisting in his stomach as Sam confronted him and Castiel could only express his regret and confusion when Sam told him that the demons were not behind the killings.

_If it wasn’t the demons, then who could it be?_

As it turned out, the perpetrator turned out to be Uriel.

Jimmy really didn’t know what was going on anymore, and neither did Castiel. Everything was becoming even more and more confusing, and Castiel was so frustrated that some of that frustration went into his voice as he told Dean that he _didn’t know_ and that _they didn’t tell him much_.

Castiel wasn’t even sure what to believe in anymore, and neither did Jimmy himself. He had always believed that the angels would be upright and unfaltering; never giving in to corruption—but this… this was everything he did not imagine at all. This was hypocrisy at its finest, and Jimmy was sick and tired of it. Even then though, there was no way he could leave, not when Castiel was still in his body and he served as the vessel as one of the soldiers of Heaven.

He was tired as hell, but there was nothing he could do except to watch and hope the best for Castiel.

Jimmy may hate Heaven now, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate Castiel.

  


Zachariah has stepped in now that Uriel’s dead and Heaven is still recovering from the damage that’s been done. Jimmy isn’t sure what to make of him—sure he’s pleasant, he’s sort of nice and amiable, but it’s easy enough to see the façade and look under the mask. Jimmy’s seen enough of those sorts of people in his life to know such people, and after everything he supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that Heaven has its fair share of such douchebags.

(Yes, he knows not supposed to swear, but by now Jimmy figures one won’t really hurt him. He’s got an _angel_ in his body, and worse things have happened.)

Castiel doesn’t really like him either from what he senses, but at the same time Zachariah’s one of the top dogs, and so can’t say anything when he zaps the Winchesters to another place entirely and wipes their memory.

Neither of them likes it, but all they can do is watch.

  


_You’re going to be in trouble for this,_ is all that Jimmy can find himself saying once Dean has rushed off to where Chuck Shurley is in order to make use of Raphael and drive away Lilith from Sam Winchester.

Castiel glances back up into the sky, his voice ever the steadfast wall of neutrality. _I only told him facts. What he does with it is up to him._

Jimmy of course, knows better than that—for he had felt it, that twinge of emotion that stirred with Castiel the moment Dean had all but threatened to end his relationship with the angel. It had been desperation, a need to not lose this connection. It had flared unlike anything, the intensity having caught Jimmy off-guard.

He knew that Castiel knew that he knew, which was why both of them weren’t saying anything. There was nothing to say about it.

It was too late, and they both knew that.

  


They’re after him.

They’re after _him_ , and they’re out for blood and justice.

There’s nothing more terrifying than the wrath of Heaven itself, and Jimmy knows that now.

The Host isn’t happy at all that Castiel told Dean about the archangel, and now they’re going to pay the price for it.

Castiel flees, trying to hide and evade the ones chasing after him, trying to get to _Dean_ —for if he is going to die, he might as well tell Dean everything that he knows and give him the information that Dean needs in order to stop the Apocalypse. An Apocalypse that Heaven _wants_ , a world that Heaven wants to be gone.

Jimmy doesn’t like that and neither does Castiel, and they’ll be damned before they can’t do something about it.

They tried—they really tried and Castiel reaches out for Dean—but their pursuers are quick and strong and its ten against one, and Jimmy tries and fails to reach out for the angel as their connection servers when the other angels tore him right out.

 _Tell Dean—_ Castiel tries to say, but the high-pitched cries cover up the rest of his words and the light washes out everything else.

When Jimmy wakes up after that, it’s to the confused looks of the two Winchesters and an icy coldness inside his soul. That gets him more than anything else, as he quickly pushes himself up and calls out for the angel (the first time he gets to speak again for so long and all he can say is that; the irony of it is not lost on him). But there’s no response, no answer—it’s only himself, back alone in his own body.

“Where the hell is Castiel?” Dean demands.

“…he’s gone,” he replies, his own voice distant even to his own ears.

Castiel’s gone.

Castiel’s gone, and he’s never going to come back.

Maybe he should be glad, but somehow it feels like he’s just lost a good friend.

  


The Winchesters take him back to the motel they’ve been staying and they get him food—and for the first time in almost a year Jimmy actually _eats_. Castiel has never found a need to, since he was an angel and his Grace was what sustained him, but the angel’s gone now and Jimmy finds himself _starving_. Up until now, food has never tasted this delicious to him, even if said food was just a crummy burger from the next-door diner.

“Mind slowing down?” Dean starts with a semi-disgusted look, “You’re going to give me angina.”

Jimmy only finds himself shrugging. “I’m hungry.” He really can’t bring himself to care again, not really. Castiel’s gone and most likely dead and he’s tired of all the things that have been going on everywhere. He just wants it to be over, like a bad dream. He just wants to return to his family again, a family he so foolishly left behind in a moment of impulse and said yes to the angel of Thursday.

Sam questions him, seeking answers as to what had happened, and Jimmy can only honestly reply that he doesn’t know—everything was still fuzzy for him, bright lights and surges of emotions that weren’t his.

“You remember anything about being possessed?” the younger Winchester asks, “Anything at all?”

The answer comes out from his mouth before he really thinks about it; almost like an answer he’s been waiting to say once he had the chance. “Bits and pieces,” he replies, waving his hand that wasn’t occupied by the burger. “You know, angel inside of you—it’s like being chained to a comet.” And that is something pretty close to the truth—he doesn’t remember much now, only flashes of memories and various disjointed recollections which make no sense to his mind (and some _do_ , but they all involve Dean and Hell and nightmares and Jimmy isn’t sure how he’s supposed to say that to the elder Winchester); perhaps a side-effect or something from being possessed for so long, but Jimmy isn’t going to go around and ask. Castiel’s gone already; he has no more obligations to all of this crap that’s happening. All he wants to do is to go _home_ ; which apparently, he can’t even go to now and that just frustrates the crap out of him.

It’s 4.34AM now, and Jimmy hasn’t found himself able to sleep so much as a wink—mostly he’s just drifting in and out, memories slowly coming together here and there. Nothing that would help the Winchesters; but things that he did miss, just a little. Castiel had been an angel, not a good one at first—annoying and irritating and frustrating, really—but they had talked a lot, and Castiel had told him things that the angel never told anybody else, would never bring himself to tell Dean. Castiel had been a friend when he needed one, and now that friend was gone, taken away by Heaven and its fucked up standards and Jimmy’s just so sick of all of it.

So when Sam Winchester leaves the room and Jimmy hears the door click behind after that, he takes his chances and flees back to Illinois. His return home isn’t exactly the stuff of legends, but it doesn’t matter now.

He’s home again, and that’s the most important thing. He doesn’t need his beliefs and devotion because he knows that Heaven isn’t the place he imagined it to be at all. This is where he needs to be, and he’s just _happy_ that he’s finally back here, with his family.

This is all he needs.

  


Wrong, wrong—this is all wrong. Amelia’s been possessed by a demon and Claire’s a hostage—this is all _wrong_ , and a part of Jimmy knows that he only has himself to blame for it but he can’t help but snarl into the heavens at the angel who was supposed to be his _friend_ , the angel who promised to keep his family safe but here they are now all in danger.

“Castiel, you son of a bitch!” And yes, he gives no fucks about being a nice guy now because he is _done_ with being a nice guy when it got him nothing but this entire fucked up mess he’s in. “You promised me that my family would be okay! You _promised_ that you were gonna take care of them!”

He’s tired and he’s angry and he’s just so sick of all of this, this situation he never asked for and never expected but got dragged into it anyway because of one fucking ‘yes’. Just one word and he’s lost a year of his life being dragged around like a puppet on strings, all for some greater purpose and bigger pictures and Jimmy is just so, so _sick_ of it all. He’s out and he’s done and he doesn’t ever want to be back in on this shithole.

“I gave you everything you asked me to give!” he continues, not caring if this gets him a strike of lightning or some other bullshit. Heaven is fucked up as it is anyway and Jimmy’s seen enough of it to be done with it. “I gave you more! This is the thanks I get? This is what you do? Your Heaven? Help me, please! You promised, Cas Just help me!”

He had _promised_ and he was supposed to keep his fucking promises, and now he was gone and demons had his family and _Castiel had promised so Heaven had fucking better go through with it_.

But no, all he gets is silence and nothing else and Jimmy knows that’s all he’s going to get. They probably don’t even care anyway.

“Typical,” he mutters in a dark undertone, and promptly steels himself after that as he enters the warehouse.

  


Even though he hears Claire’s voice Jimmy knows what he’s hearing is actually _Castiel_ , and it’s that thought that has him gritting his teeth and struggling to stay alive even as the angel tells him to rest and return to his real home.

But Heaven is not his real home, and it will never be—his real home is here, with his family; his family who he had so foolishly put into danger because he hadn’t listened to the Winchesters despite their warnings. The scars were already there, and they would never be healed—and after all of this, the last thing he wants is for his _daughter_ to suffer the same thing that he had.

That’s the reason why he ignores all of Castiel’s soothing words, the reason why he looks through his daughter and into the angel who inhabits her body and _pleads_. “Please, Castiel. Just take me. Take me, please.”

Castiel warns him, tells him of the future that awaits him if he consents again, but all Jimmy can think is _Claire_ and he reaches out to grab the angel by his daughter’s arm and hisses out through blood and gritted teeth. “You take _me_. Just take _me_.”

Their eyes lock gazes in that moment and Jimmy tries to show Castiel how much he pleads and how much he _needs_ this, this one thing he’s asked for after everything he’s given to the angel. He sees a spark of understanding in his daughter’s eyes, and Claire bows her head in a way that could only be Castiel as her voice speaks out the angel’s consent. “As you wish.”

Claire reaches out for him and cups his cheek in a quiet, tender gesture, and that’s the last thing Jimmy remembers before Grace surges through him once more, fire and ice threading through his veins. Everything comes back rushing into him, along with more things—things that only flash past and then vanish, memories that Castiel keeps hidden as Jimmy feels the marble-cold silence of the angel in his mind once more.

He’s still recovering as Castiel starts to leave, but even he can’t ignore the cold edge of the angel’s voice as he tells Dean how he _only serves Heaven and not men and certainly not him_.

  


Castiel is… different.

It doesn’t take long for Jimmy to realize that. They don’t talk anymore like they used to, don’t communicate. Castiel’s just using him for the most basic of purposes—as the meatsuit he’s supposed to be.

The change unsettles Jimmy a hell lot, and it only takes a while for him to know that something happened to him while the angel was back in Heaven. Something big, something powerful—otherwise Castiel wouldn’t be like this, wouldn’t be forcing himself to do every command the Host gives to him because Jimmy can feel it. He can feel the emotions Castiel’s trying to suppress, the surges of regret and pain and uncertainty that comes when he talks Dean into pledging himself to the angels, when he releases Sam from the panic room and when he has Anna captured and taken to Heaven even though Jimmy senses how much it breaks the angel to do it.

 _Cas, talk to me,_ he finally tries to prompt, trying to speak to the angel as Castiel leans over the rails and silently watches the city across the waters. _Just what happened to you back in Heaven? You know it’s wrong, but yet—_

 _Silence,_ the angel all but snarls back, and Jimmy feels his fingers and curling harder around the bars, knuckles turning white from the force as Castiel tries to restrain himself. _It is not your place to speak._

Jimmy keeps quiet after that, uncomfortably silent as he stays in his corner of his mind, watching Castiel as the angel struggles with his repressed emotions and feelings and uncertainty. Watches as his friend becomes the cold-hearted solider he’s supposed to be, and not the angel who loved everything on Earth and had once asked Jimmy so many questions about humanity and their customs in a bid to learned more.

And just a little more, Jimmy finds himself hating Heaven even more for what they did to his friend.

  


The plan has been revealed, and the Apocalypse is coming.

Jimmy doesn’t like it and he _knows_ that Castiel doesn’t either, but the angel isn’t saying anything as Zachariah patronises Dean and Dean seems want to do nothing else but punch somebody in their face.

Which Dean does later, to Castiel himself.

Jimmy can’t help but wince in sympathy at the result of that attempt.

But if anything Dean is resilient to pain, and he keeps it compressed as he turns back to growl at Castiel. “It’s Armageddon, Cas; you need a better word then ‘sorry’.”

“Try to understand,” Castiel attempts to explain, even as his emotions surge from their suppression and Jimmy’s now doing the mental equivalent of biting his lip. “This is long foretold; this is your—”

“Destiny?” Dean all but snaps back, and the flinch that Castiel does in response is something that only Jimmy can catch. The angel’s lost again, caught between duty and the need he has to help Dean. Castiel knows this is wrong—everything about this is wrong, but Castiel forces himself to go on anyway because he’s a soldier of God and Heaven he has to obey orders no matter what. He already suffered the consequences of disobedience once, and he can’t do so again. Castiel doesn’t want to Fall like Anael did, and Jimmy can sense that.

But Dean is being insistent, and every word he says stings Castiel right where it hurts most.

“It’s all a bunch of lies, you stupid, poor son of a bitch!” he snarls while jabbing a finger at the angel. “It’s just a way for your bosses to keep me and to keep you in line!”

 _He’s right, you know,_ Jimmy can’t help but quip, even as he feels the emotions from Castiel bubbling even more now. The angel moves, wanting to speak, but Dean cuts him off before Castiel can say anything and continues to snarl in his face.

“You know what’s real?” he starts, glaring now, and Jimmy can see the determination set in his eyes—the fire that burned within the Righteous Man, the strength and beauty of that soul that Castiel saw down in Hell and now Jimmy could see too. “People, families—that’s real. And you’re gonna watch them all burn?”

“What is so worth saving?” Castiel can’t help it now, and his own voice rises higher as he steps forward and asks, demanding answers to questions that he had been harbouring for so long, from when he first saw Dean Winchester and the things he did and the sacrifices he had made. “I see nothing but pain here; I see inside you—I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You’ll be at peace. Even with Sam.”

And it was there, right there and then, did Jimmy realize just what it was Castiel wanted—he wanted _Dean_ to be happy, to be at peace and be safe. This was the angel who had seen Dean with all his flaws and wounds and his terrible beauty down in Hell; this was the angel who still loved him even after that, and this was the angel who pulled him out from perdition and desired nothing more for Dean to be truly out of it. Castiel wanted Dean to suffer no more, even if the rest of the world had to burn for it. For even the world was not as important to Castiel as Dean himself, and before everything else came this human who the angel loved so much it hurt.

The realization sinks slowly into Jimmy, as he tries to reach out for the angel and wants to say _something_ , but Dean’s talking again and telling Castiel to _shove his peace up his lily-white ass_ for he would take the guilt and the pain and Sam and he would rather be here then some goddamned _stepford bitch in paradise_.

That response only confuses Castiel even more, who tries to understand just why Dean is so hard-headed and so against all of this, attempting to straighten his mind as he wants to leave but can’t help but hear the human snapping behind him. “This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier—there is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it.”

And he knows it, and Jimmy _knows_ that Castiel knows it, but that doesn’t stop the angel from attempting to leave, wanting to flee and hide himself but can’t because Dean’s spun him around (“Look at me!”) and the angel can only stare at the human’s steadfast green eyes, the certainty of the gaze that glares back at him while Dean hisses a plea to the angel.

And that’s it—that’s all that Dean needs to say, because Jimmy can feel Castiel’s resolve breaking when he takes an unnecessary breath and asks the question. “What would you have me do?”

But Dean asks too much and Castiel’s still afraid to go against Heaven—he doesn’t want to Fall, he _can’t_ —and the human gives up on him, and the words he say sting the angel more than anything else that he’s said in the last few minutes.

“What do you care about dying? We’re already done.”

“Dean—” the angel starts, wanting to explain, to say _please wait_ —

“We’re _done_.”

That tone brooks no more argument, and Castiel can only resign himself to that as he takes them away from the room.

  


_You gotta do this, Cas,_ Jimmy tries to urge the angel.

Castiel shakes his head, and Jimmy feels the uncertainty surging from him. _I can’t—I can’t disobey._

 _Then you’d rather let Dean suffer?_ He knows he’s being low at striking the angel’s weak point, but there’s no more time, no more chances. They had to do it _now_ before it’s too late and the world’s paying the price for their actions. Jimmy doesn’t want to see Amelia and Claire dying from this stupid fight, and he knows that Castiel doesn’t want it either—doesn’t want Dean to suffer any more.

 _He will be at peace when it is over,_ Castiel counters, but even the angel knows that he’s fooling nobody.

 _We both know how fucked up Heaven is already,_ Jimmy hisses now, voice edging on desperation. _It’s not going to end nicely for anybody, Cas. Nobody’s going to be happy about this._

_But—_

_If there’s anything worth dying for, Cas,_ Jimmy cuts in, quoting what the hunter had told Castiel himself earlier. _This is it._

Castiel falls silent after that, clenching his jaw, trying to reason with himself—but Jimmy’s in his head, and he can see the angel thinking and sense where his decision lie towards. He nudges it a little more, and a minute after that finds Castiel in the room with Dean and Zachariah banished away from the Enochian sigil.

“He won’t be gone long,” the angel breathed out as he lowered his hand from the sigil and quickly washed away all the blood, healing up the wound. “We have to find Sam now.”

Dean watches the angel warily, but the question comes anyway. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel admits as he passes a knife to the hunter. “But I know who does.” He looks up at Dean after that, blood racing as he tries to keep himself together. “We have to stop him, Dean. From killing Lilith.”

“But Lilith’s gonna break the final seal—”

“—Lilith _is_ the final seal,” Castiel reveals, and Dean’s eyes widen in shock at the revelation. “She dies, the end begins.”

  


They get to Chuck Shurley’s moments later, and as frightened and as jumpy as the prophet he helps Dean anyway and tells him where Sam is going to be.

“Y-You guys aren’t supposed to be here,” he breathes out, still not quite sure what is going on.

To Jimmy’s surprise, Castiel replies with something he hadn’t expected the angel to say. “Yeah, well… we’re making it up as we go along.”

The archangel—Raphael—comes soon after that, and Castiel only has enough time to send Dean to the covenant and tell Chuck to hide himself, and they watch the prophet fleeing out of the room before turning back to see Raphael descending onto them in the flurry of a thousand thundering beats like the sound of an eternal thunderstorm.

Raphael’s angry and Castiel knows that he’s going to die, and he bows his head down to accept his fate. _I apologize for this, Jimmy._

Despite everything, Jimmy can’t help but grin a little. _Yeah, well—it was fun while it lasted._

Grace burns through his body inside out and nothing but piercing light fills his vision, there is pain unlike anything he’s ever felt and then Jimmy knows no more but cold and darkness.

  


He doesn’t know how long time has passed after that, but when he’s conscious again its quiet and its nice and he can feel the sun shining down on him from above, and Jimmy feels a hand threading in his hair while warmth presses against his cheek. He’s lying on somebody’s lap, and its’ just… nice. Comforting. Peaceful. Everything he’s ever wanted.

“Jimmy,” he hears the voice calling, and he opens his eyes at the call.

It should be weird, staring at a double of yourself who really isn’t your double, but somehow Jimmy can’t find himself too concerned about that.

“Castiel,” he eventually rasps out, voice hoarse from disuse.

The corner of the angel’s lips twitch upwards at his name, fingers pressing warmly into his scalp as he speaks softer. “I have to return.”

It doesn’t take long to figure out what Castiel means. Jimmy blinks once, smiling back before he asks. “Dean?”

“Yes.” A small nod, almost unnoticeable. “I have to help him.”

Jimmy nods, understanding as he pushes himself up to sit on the grass he’s been laying on, facing Castiel. The sun is warm and drowsy, and there’s a quiet breeze only signalled by the kite flapping in the air. Somehow without knowing he knows that this is Heaven—or at least Castiel’s version of it. It’s everything the angel ever wanted, and the tranquillity is nothing but perfect.

Castiel lowers his head once Jimmy is sitting up, bowing as if he seeks permission. “I will be returning to Earth, but I need your body again for it. I hope you will allow me to use you as your vessel once more.”

The man blinks. “I’ll be there again, won’t I?”

To his surprise the angel shakes his head. “You have suffered enough, Jimmy. I’ve been given a new vessel—a duplicate of you, so you can rest properly. You have… done much for me.”

Jimmy wants to argue a bit, saying how helpless Castiel would be without him, how he’d be alone now since he disobeyed and rebelled Heaven, but then he remembers just who the angel had done it for and pauses. No, he’d only be in the way if he returned to. Castiel has his faith and his conviction, and Jimmy wasn’t going to stop the angel from doing what he had to do.

“Well…” he starts, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s not exactly me, is it? So, you know… there’s really no need to ask. Go do what you need to do, Cas.”

Castiel blinks at that, confused momentarily, but soon does that small little smile of his and nods. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jimmy pauses, shifts a little as he watches the angel getting up from the grass and blurts out before he stops himself. “And, Cas?”

The angel pauses in his steps, turning back around with that familiar tilt of his head. “Yes?”

Jimmy looks up to the other and grins a bit. “Don’t give up on Dean.”

Castiel only smiles. “You must rest now, Jimmy.”

The man nods and closes his eyes, and the last thing he hears is the quiet beat of Castiel’s wings before the world dissolves around him and Jimmy Novak was no more.


End file.
